


my, my, simple sir

by kate_button



Series: take a slice [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Marijuana, Pre-Slash, Recreational Drug Use, Roommates, Shotgunning, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:50:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_button/pseuds/kate_button
Summary: Billy’s fun, and Billy likes to fuck with him, and Steve likes being fucked with, apparently, which is why when Billy holds out the joint for him and then pulls it away as he reaches for it with a thoughtful look on his face Steve’s stomach swoops.





	my, my, simple sir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LazyBaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/gifts).

> Huge shoutout to Sara for being amazing and great and also for being the reason this exists at all. Hope you like it.

Billy Hargrove is fucking gross. Steve knew this before, of course, no stranger to the shameless way Billy always existed in high school, waggling his tongue around and taking drinks out of people’s hands at parties and snorting crushed up Adderall off kitchen counters or the porcelain edges of the sinks in the boys room at the school. The grin he’d get right after - wide and lazy-good, eyes crinkled at the edges - haunts Steve’s fucking dreams.

Haunts them even more now that he lives with him. Now that he gets to listen to Billy jerk off every night and some mornings, now that he has to look at the come-crusted paper towels that Billy doesn’t always make into the trash can by his desk, that bounce off the edges and onto Steve’s side of the room.

Whatever. Billy’s shameless and flirts with Steve constantly because he likes the way it makes him blush and Steve doesn’t have it in him to tell him to cut it the fuck out.

They’re not friends. They’re also not always seconds away from blows at any moment anymore, either. Got that shit out of their system, replaced it with touching too much and listening to each other jerk off and flirting constantly and shamelessly and pretending it’s all a joke, like none of it is serious at all.

Billy’s gross in the way where sometimes he skips going down to the laundry to lounge around the room with a hard on scrolling through god knows what on his phone while Steve tries desperately not to fail out of the only school that barely accepted him in the first place and then has to pull the least dirty old Metallica tshirt out of the pile at the end of his bed when he hauls his ass up to go to his afternoon class. Gross in the way that sometimes, when it’s gone on too many days, he skips his own pile of dirty clothes entirely, steals one of Steve’s out of his drawers and then puts it right back in when he’s done, like a dick, leaves it there for Steve to pull on unknowingly when he’s scrambling to make it to his 8am class because Billy unplugged his alarm clock again.

Anyway, living with Billy is a nightmare, mostly, but he’s also got the best weed on campus and enough money from slinging it to trust fund kids with entirely too much money and free time that Steve rarely has to eat in the cafeteria, rarely has to find booze of his own or figure out which Greek row house is throwing the party that’s gonna be the most fun to get wasted at on a Saturday night.

He’s also, like, fun. If pressed Steve will deny it, but he kinda likes the motherfucker in spite of himself. Billy knows it, thinks it’s absolutely hilarious. Loves to get Steve good and riled and then run his fingers down his chest and push him down on his bed and pass him a joint and tell him to chill out, gets this delighted little glint in his eye when Steve huffs and takes it and does what he’s fucking told. It’s fun. He likes seeing it. Likes the attention. Likes that Billy frequently blows off invitations from people with a whole hell of a lot more going for them than Steve’s got to sit around in their room in his underwear getting stoned and playing Steve music he’s never heard before, laughing at the way Steve’s never heard The Smiths, knows most of Bohemian Rhapsody but hadn’t heard Tie Your Mother Down or I Want to Break Free until Billy played them for him, expensive soundbar the one thing Steve’s ever seen him spend his money on. Steve mostly listened to the radio. Billy shows him the decades of deep cuts he’s missed out on and blows his fucking mind. Makes him spotify playlists with names like _the seventies for small town suckers_ and _nineties to nut to_ and _play this one while you jerk off and think about me_ and Steve listens to all of it, sometimes with Billy, sometimes on his way to class, sometimes in his headphones when it’s dark and he can’t sleep.

So yeah, Billy’s fun, and Billy likes to fuck with him, and Steve likes being fucked with, apparently, which is why when Billy holds out the joint for him and then pulls it away as he reaches for it with a thoughtful look on his face Steve’s stomach swoops.

That look usually means trouble. Like, fun trouble, but trouble. Steve’s had to run from the cops more than once following that look on Billy’s face. He’s also ended up in a staring contest with Billy while they both jerked off on their own beds following that look. Steve both loves and dreads that look.

‘You want it?’

Steve licks his lips. ‘Do I even want to know what you’re gonna make me do to get it?’

Billy grins, licks his teeth and brings the joint back to his lips, breathes in a big hit. ‘Come get it,’ he says, choked around his lungful, little puff of smoke coming out his lips, his nostrils.

He doesn’t know what makes him slide off his bed and over to Billy’s other than he’s pretty shit at not going along with whatever Billy drags him into.

Billy gets a hand around the back of his neck as soon as he’s close enough to reach and pulls him down, has Steve bracing his hands on Billy’s bare thighs as he tries to keep his balance enough to not smash their faces together. Billy’s relentless and Steve’s heart kicks and flutters in his chest cause Billy’s looking at his mouth and Steve’s lips part of their own accord, enchanted, and then Billy’s eyes crinkle and he slots their lips together, breathes that big cloud of smoke right into Steve’s mouth.

He ends up coughing, sucks in a shocked lungful of smoke and Billy, Billy’s breath, straight out of his chest and ends up coughing it out like the first time he ever hit a pipe.

‘That’s not supposed to happen,’ Billy says, amused, rubs his thumb along Steve’s bottom lip as he tips his face back up. Steve’s eyes water. He feels stoned as fuck already, way off balance. Billy brings the joint back up between them and Steve reaches for it, dumb like that, and Billy’s amused little smile gets a little wider as he pulls it away. ‘You need to relax, babe.’

Steve lets his hands drop back to Billy’s thighs, just waits and watches as Billy shifts a little, faces him and scoots in so their bare knees are touching. Billy’s legs are a few shades darker than his own, hair more than a few shades lighter and soft as fuck. ‘Come on, asshole.’

Billy smiles, hits the joint again. This time, Steve’s ready for it when Billy’s fingers curl around the back of his neck, tug him in. He watches, can’t take his eyes off Billy’s as the space between them gets smaller and Billy’s tongue darts out to wet his lips.

Steve opens his mouth, heart hammering like crazy in his chest and his throat as Billy’s lips hover millimeters from his own, as the first wet hot taste of it hits his tongue. Billy’s easier about it this time, breathes out slow and Steve gets his shit together, figures it out, breathes it in.

It’s wildly intimate, heady as fuck. Eating Billy’s breath. Breathing his smoke. His eyes slip shut and his head spins as Billy pulls back, doesn’t let go of his neck. Rubs at the nape with his thumb.

He lets the smoke out and opens his eyes and sinks into the bed a little. Billy grins at him. The approval gets Steve hot. Billy’s hands on him get him hot. He wants more than just Billy’s smoke in his mouth.

‘Again,’ he says, rubs his hands up and down Billy’s warm legs, and Billy looks down at them and laughs and takes another hit. Steve leans in on his own this time, eager for it. Ready.

This one hits a lot harder than the last one, feels stronger. He breathes it in and actually feels the weed this time, getting his body a little extra buzzy. Billy looks at him, lazy-easy, takes a little drag of the joint and blows the smoke up at the ceiling while Steve presses his fingertips into Billy’s thighs.

‘Here,’ Billy says, holds the wet end of the joint up in front of Steve’s lips. Steve leans in, hits it until Billy pulls it away, holds it and lets it fuck him up a little more before he breathes out. Billy holds it up again. ‘Now do me.’

Billy’s fucking bossy. He’s always been bossy, needed to be the one calling the shots, but this, something about this, about Billy dictating what he gets to smoke and when and how and how much, Billy making him breathe it out of his mouth if he wants it, making him feed it back to Billy when he lets him touch the joint himself, well.

He can’t keep the little noise in his throat down when Billy’s mouth is on his again, pulling the air out of his lungs. He clings to Billy’s legs and Billy pulls him forward with the hand that’s moved from his neck to his hair until Steve’s face is tucked into his shoulder. Steve moves his hands, slides them back and onto Billy’s hips, runs his fingers over the place where the band of Billy’s briefs meet his skin. Presses his open mouth to Billy’s collarbone.

It’s just easy to get caught up. Billy fucks his self-control all to hell, makes him do shit he usually knows better than to do, can usually talk himself out of when Billy’s not there making him fucking crazy.

‘Good?’ Billy asks, voice a gravely hum in his ear, makes him shiver.

Steve pulls back enough to look at Billy again, enough to look at the way he’s got basically no blue left in his eyes, at the way his lips are parted and wet and so fucking pink and kissable and-

‘Yeah,’ he says, swallows down the urge to get his mouth on Billy’s for real. ‘You gonna let me get any more of that weed?’

Billy grins, waves what’s left of the joint between them. ‘You gonna work for it?’

Steve leans in, quick, gets his lips around it, Billy’s fingers against his lips, hits it deep, looks Billy in the eye.

Billy smiles, wide and easy and pleased and amused. Makes Steve warm and happy and buzzy-great. He pulls the joint away, and Steve leans in, gets in Billy’s space, slots their mouths together, exhales.

‘Guess I am.’

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, there's probably gonna be a sequel. Don't @ me.
> 
> (That's a lie do @ me.)
> 
> [Tumblr.](https://un-buttoned.tumblr.com/)


End file.
